


Outside of a dog

by Fanfreluche



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Smut, Young Dutch, Younger Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23515825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfreluche/pseuds/Fanfreluche
Summary: Copper is a mischievous boy.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde
Comments: 8
Kudos: 48





	Outside of a dog

The warm afternoon light cast leaf-patterned shadows on the sketchbook lying open on his lap. A cool breeze ruffled his hair. The fingers of his left hand curled loosely around the tin cup filled with coffee, recently brewed, fragrance mixing gradually with the fresh scent of grass. His right hand idly stroked the soft groove on top of the head of a dog sleeping next to him. His eyes were half-closed, back resting against a tree, legs comfortably crossed underneath him. Arthur sighed in contentment. 

Been a while since he’d had a chance to truly relax and enjoy the present moment without any concerns whatsoever about what future might bring. They were laying low, miles away from civilisation, after a relatively profitable job. Hosea and Bessy had decided to use this opportunity to go on a trip of their own, and while Dutch wasn’t the best cook, he was in a good mood, which meant dinner conversations were fun and light-hearted. The only strange thing was that there had been no attempt at initiating any sort of intimacy on either Dutch’s or his behalf, considering they couldn’t be disturbed like usual. He didn’t know about Dutch, but Arthur himself was happy with how things were, at the moment. Sometimes it felt better just listening to the other man talk, and teasing him. 

Yeah, he loved teasing Dutch.

Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled lightly, picked up his pencil and went back to drawing the pup’s portrait. He’d been at it for only a few moments when Copper’s ears twitched, his eyes slowly opened, he sneezed and yawned and stretched and then without any preamble trotted away. 

“Hey, boy! Come back…”

The louder he called after the pup, the faster his pace became. He wasn’t left to wonder much at this odd attitude, though, since soon enough he heard footsteps approaching, then a looming shadow, and finally on turning his head he was rewarded with the sight of a book suspended an inch or two in front of his nose and an irked man holding it. 

Arthur had to back away a bit to be able to see the book properly, and it wasn’t a pretty picture… What parts that hadn’t been chewed to tatters were moist, more pulp than paper, the lines definitely illegible. 

“You know he doesn’t mean to,” He began, not knowing what else to say, surprised as he was.

“Do you imagine I care what the mut’s intentions are?”

The book fell with a plop on the ground next to him. 

“I keep telling you,” Dutch went on, lighting a cigarette. “You have to discipline your damned dog. Can’t go on like this.”

Not this again… Arthur frowned, looked away from Dutch. Even now, seeing the concrete result of his pup’s mischief, he couldn’t bring himself to believe there was anything wrong with his behaviour. It was just the way he was. 

“He’s a dog, for fuck’s sake… What did you expect?”

“Oh, I have no- Look at me, Arthur. I’ve no expectations from the dog, but his owner is another story. You know well this isn’t the first-”

“Fine!” He lowered his eyes again, closed his sketchbook with a vexed tud. “Just don’t expect me to do miracles. It ain’t easy exactly. You’ve never had one yourself, so you’ve no clue.”

He gazed up at Dutch again when there was no response. Immediately he felt his ears beginning to burn once he saw the familiar, infuriating grin. Quickly he looked away, brought his cup up to his mouth and blew on it unnecessarily. Damned bastard. When he turned to face him once more, he was sporting his own wicked smile. 

“Well,” Arthur drawled, head leaning back to rest against the bark, sipping the remainder of his coffee. “Seeing as how poorly you’ve managed to train yours, reckon I’ve learned from you how to handle mine.”

Dutch’s stare darkened. Arthur licked his lips. A pause and then...

“Replace it,” The man barked, pointing at the book, then abruptly turned on his heels and left. 

And he did. Replace it, that is. Not cause he’d been ordered to, but cause he felt guilty for having ruined Dutch’s book. Well, he hadn’t personally, but Copper was his responsibility after all… It took him a damn week to do that though, seeing as the closest town with a bookstore wasn’t exactly close.

It was night when he finally reached the camp. Must have been pretty late, but Dutch’s tent was still light. The first thing he did was give Copper some water and groom his tired horse. Next, he went straight to Dutch’s tent and found him lying on his bed, reading. 

He hadn’t planned to sit next to him and kiss him, or push him aside a little to stretch down by his side, still kissing, now his neck, then further down, slowly unbuttoning his union suit to run curious fingers through the coarse black hair… But it happened. Dutch’s genuinely pleased smile on his entry into the tent might have had something to do with it. Maybe.

He shuddered a little to feel a gentle hand stroking along his back, pulling him closer, and rested his head on Dutch’s chest, his own hand sliding down into the other man’s trousers. Strong fingers came to stay on the nape of his neck, pressing lightly when his own circled around an already hardening cock. He tilted his head to lick Dutch’s nipple, pleased to hear a moan, then bit it, delighted to hear a gasp, before shifting upwards, licking along his neck, tasting him, wrist slowly flicking up and down his length, registering the familiar texture. 

“Maybe he likes your scent,” He whispered, momentarily looking up so their gazes met. 

“Hmmm...” Dutch smiled, cheeks flushed red, the grip of his other hand tightening around the book now lying on his belly. “How so?”

“Is why he likes to eat your books,” Arthur licked along Dutch’s jaw, the stubble prickling his tongue so he moved to softer plains, nibbling on his upper then lower lip, pecking lightly.

Dutch hummed again, moved to change their position, but Arthur pushed him back. 

“I thought _long_ and _hard_ about what you told me about managing him properly. Came to the conclusion that-” He kissed him fully on the mouth, let the tip of his tongue meet his, let it linger for a surrendered second. “That the reason why he won’t listen to me is that he sees me as just another dog. A bit bigger maybe, and older.” He couldn’t help but grin. “But a dog nonetheless.” He squeezed Dutch’s cock for emphasis. “So…”

“A dog, huh?” Dutch’s voice was hoarse with arousal, left hand clawing firmly at the book. 

“Yeah, a horny dog,” Arthur growled, leaning to kiss him on the mouth again, quickly and viciously. “So, whatever I wanna teach him, I’ve got to do it by example…” He was panting now. Had to concentrate to keep in control, not mind too much to the heat of the body below his. “If, say, I don’t want him to go sniffing after a bitch in the middle of a job, I shouldn’t be doing the same myself.”

“Yeah?” Dutch’s hips bucked up into his tight grip. He was evidently fighting not to close his eyes. “Doubt that’d work, boy.”

“Ever tried?”

“Don’t have to try a foolish experiment,” Dutch threw his head back on the pillow, but his eyes were still fixed on him. Fingers flexed around his neck. “You should put a collar on him. That’s bound to produce results.”

Arthur laughed. Throaty, amused, and a bit mean. “He’d bite off my dick if I so much as tried.” And purely for demonstration dove down to bite the length of Dutch’s cock, albeit softly. He wasn’t a sadist. 

The pressure on the back of his head where Dutch’s hand had slipped to increased instantly, but he pulled back, looked up at the other man through sweat-moist locks, and out of mercy gave his dick a long lick and an affectionate kiss on the head, before pulling away completely and getting off the bed. 

“Replaced your book.” He informed him, readjusting his clothes, tucking his own painfully hard cock into his union suit, hand combing through dishevelled hair. “It’s on the crate outside.”

With that Arthur left the tent, forgetting of course to mention all the carefully dried flowers interspersed between the pages of the new book, or the doodles at the margin of a great many pages, mostly of Copper in various poses. Oh, and of erect, leaking cocks.


End file.
